~ Tнє Pαяα∂σχ Hσυѕє ~ now back to regularly scheduled chaos

Matt | Museum | ®Hawkpath® |

"Okay, well that's not gonna go great, because wild coincidence, I totally failed detective school," he said, with a small laugh as he turned the knife over in his hands, his inner monologue getting louder with every thought.  Ha, dumbass.  "No, I really did.  I suck," he insisted, setting the knife back down.  "I mean...this is a murder.  How am I supposed to know what happened?  I mean, he was stabbed, obviously, and the angle of the knife definitely means there was a struggle, but anyone would know that."

Matt | Monster room | strider |

Matt had just been getting ready to argue, his mouth open in protest, when Nico...agreed. Oh. Okay. That was easy. He shot Nico a wide grin, then jumped out from behind the rock, waving his arms.

"Hey!" he shouted, picking a rock up off the ground and chucking it at the monster to try and pull its full attention to him and only him. "How's that depth perception, huh??"

“Ah. Yes, they were in the House,” L replied, nodding a little as he understood Kid’s words. They were also both related to Myrnin, one directly and one indirectly caused by him. He didn’t see the need to mention that fact.
He couldn’t say he wasn’t bothered by the idea of his own death, he definitely was, but he also couldn’t say he was as bothered most people would be. Maybe he was just used to the idea...maybe he wasn’t as sensitive to it as some. Or maybe he was just better at pretending.
“I can get a new cover, but I need to find Watari, first,” he explained. “Which is proving difficult as the House insists on blinking me in every few seconds. Still...the more time that passes, the more likely it is that I’ll survive.”

Nico had been ready to make excuses for Hades, in his dream. Excuses because he really wasn’t as bad as he seemed, because he tried to be a good father… Nico stood up, eyes narrowing. Hades didn’t deserve anyone making excuses for him. Not after… not after everything. Nico let his eyes close for a moment, trying to get himself together. Kelsier wouldn’t have wanted him to defend Hades, not after what he had put them both through. But Kelsier wasn’t there at the moment, not like he should have been.
It was lonely, at Nico’s little campsite. He kept himself away from the others, even the boys he had come to see as family. He tried to keep his distance from Kelsier out of some dim hope that he would get better if left alone, but… but Nico had been gone for months and it hadn’t gotten better at all. Being back hadn’t helped either, and Nico was beginning to think that maybe Kelsier really was broken. Maybe he really had broken his promise. Still… he stood up, pressing his palms against his eyes for a moment before moving towards the center of camp. Something warm was cooking over the fire, and Nico scooped a helping of it into a cup. He wasn’t hungry himself, and he knew Kelsier didn’t often eat what he brought him, but he had to keep trying, right? That was what Kelsier had taught him. You don’t give up, no matter what. Nico wanted to yell at him, to demand why he should take that advice when it was Kelsier who had given up. He knew that was unfair. Kelsier hadn’t given up, not really… he was just fighting the wrong battle. Somehow, that was worse.
Nico slipped quietly into his tent, standing a safe distance away as he put the cup of breakfast on the ground.
“Morning,” he managed softly, trying not to startle Kelsier too much with his presence.

Nico didn’t notice the real Kelsier there. Well… he did, in a way. He felt the way Kelsier was hovering in the room, giving Nico the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to get Kelsier back. Looking at him… it was hard to believe it was the same man who had found him in a convenience store years before. He looked away, hand drifting up to his own arm. The last time Kelsier had been himself… he’d told Nico he trusted him. He had let him remove the arm, because it was the only way to make sure he survived. Sometimes, Nico wondered if this was all his fault. If he had caused this somehow, if this was some sort of infection from the impromptu surgery… it didn’t matter. It was his fault anyway. His fault that Kelsier was broken, because without him… Kelsier never would have gotten mixed up with Hades.
The look in Kelsier’s eyes was worse than any stab wound. The dim hatred there… it stung more than Nico had words to describe. He wanted to run to Kelsier, wanted to pull him into an embrace, wanted to let himself be held. How much had he been shaking after that first zombie attack, the one they shouldn’t have survived? How warm had Kelsier’s embrace been that he’d been able to stop shaking? He wasn’t shaking now. He had, the first few times Kelsier had looked at him like that. Now, he was just tired. He took a small step back, sitting down so his good eye was angled at Kelsier. Not only so he could see him better, but so Kelsier wouldn’t associate the scar across his bad one with the same scar he’d given Hades. Nico had believed they could win, then. He didn’t believe that anymore.
Nico leaned his back against the thin material of the tent, pulling his knees close to his chest and nudging the food just a little bit closer. In truth… he was surprised that Kelsier was still alive. He had hoped that leaving him with a group would help him get better, but… for him to have survived while like this? Nico owed the group more than he’d been able to give them. As long as Kelsier was alive, there was a chance, right?
Sometimes he thought he might hate Kelsier, for teaching him about hope.
“Are… you feeling alright?” he asked after a moment, lifting his gaze to meet Kelsier’s. “The weather’s improving. I was going to practice with the sword later. You… you told me you were going to teach me more, once. I’m still… I’m still gonna hold you to that.” His voice broke just a little, but he forced himself to breathe.

Zuko held onto Sal for a long moment before he let him go, unsure how to react to the hug. He wasn’t used to hugging people, but somehow that seemed to make the hug Sal had given him better, almost. Like it was worth more because he hadn’t experienced very many hugs in his life. Or maybe that was stupid and maybe hugs were stupid, too. That was what Azula would probably say. It was what Ozai had probably said to her at some point. Because Ursa had given Zuko hugs, but not always Azula. He pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn’t want to think about Azula, and he didn’t want to think about his mom. He wanted to be here, in this moment, with Sal.
“I hope you get to see one someday, too,” he replied, a trace of a smile touching his lips. “Maybe one day… I can show you one. You can come to the palace and see the baby ones that like to live in some of the little ponds we have!”
Zuko didn’t know for sure that Sal was smiling, but he hoped he was. He hoped he was enjoying the conversation as much as Zuko himself was.
“I’ve only seen cats a few times, but I like them, too. They seem nice, but they need space, too. I… think that’s cool.” He looked up, gold eyes meeting blue for a long moment. “Nice to meet you, Sal,” he said, giving a quick bow just as his mother had showed him. “My name is Zuko.” He seemed about to say more when he heard a shout from behind him. He turned, crossing his arms. He didn’t like being ordered around, but… stacking the tables seemed like it could be fun. Still…
“Why do you get to tell us what to do?”

“Cool!” Newt replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. “If you can feel the pain and it doesn’t wake you up, then that means you’re already awake! It’s something my da told me for when I have nightmares, and it works pretty well.” He gave a small shrug, looking around for something to do when he heard Ronan’s voice call out. He had almost forgotten that he and Rei weren’t in the room alone. There were other people here, and though Newt didn’t always like being surrounded by a ton of strangers… these were all kids, and none of them seemed to be sick. Which was good. It meant… well, it meant that Newt might actually get to play with these kids, for once in his life.
“Wanna help them stack the tables?” he asked, turning to Rei to get his new friend’s approval first. It sounded fun, but he didn’t want to ditch Rei this soon after meeting him. That just seemed mean.

Noah blinked, a little bit surprised as his new friend immediately took control of the situation, calling for the others to come and help them. Good… he was really starting to like Lynch. He didn’t give up and he was willing to try cool, probably ridiculous and not very safe things with him. He was just… cool. And Noah wasn’t used to being around cool people. He especially wasn’t used to someone else thinking he was cool. He decided almost immediately that he liked Lynch, that he hoped he could stay friends with him even when he had to go back home.
The people around them seemed relatively slow to respond, though, and Noah couldn’t help but make a face. He had thought people would be ecstatic to help out, but the boy with the long hair seemed annoyed, and the others weren’t really responding.
“It’s gonna be fun!” he replied to Zuko, taking Ronan’s hand without thinking in case his new friend was upset that someone wasn’t being very nice about it all. “You don’t have to help, but it’ll be cooler with more people.”

“Inventions… magic… is there really that much of a difference?” Nico asked, tilting his head a little bit. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure it out. “People say the automobile is an invention, but I dunno how it works, so it might as well be magic. So maybe it is magic and maybe it’s an invention all at once!” He had no idea if that made any sense at all, but he hoped it did. He wanted his new friend to understand what he was saying. Even if he was, apparently, speaking English. Or… well, even if it seemed like Varian could understand his language. Understanding the individual words wasn’t the same as understanding the meaning behind them, and that was absolutely fascinating to Nico. He kept that thought to himself, though, afraid Varian would think it weird.
“You… trust me?” Nico asked, eyes widened in very obvious shock. “I… I’ll do my very best to prove that I’m worth your trust. I don’t care how loud it is, I won’t break anything or ruin your experiments or… or anything like that. I promise.”

Another boy appeared, hair twisted up into a rather elaborate updo, a fancy silk dress draped around his body that he didn’t seem very comfortable in. He frowned, backing up against a wall as he realized he wasn’t where he had been any longer. At least he didn’t have to stare at lines of… of something that didn’t make any sense to him.
The issue with that was he really didn’t know where he was now. He didn’t recognize anyone he was with, but they were all dressed much less fancy than him, so… knowing full well that his father would hate it, he stripped off the silk dress until he stood in nothing but his chemise and petticoats. He briefly considered taking off the petticoats, too, but… that didn’t seem like a great idea.
He tilted his head, about to ask if he could join in with the table stacking when he noticed someone who wasn’t talking to anyone else yet.
Crumpling his dress into a ball and carrying it under his arm, he took a few small steps towards the other boy, offering a tiny smile as he sat down a few feet away.

Hange | Museum room/living room | ®Hawkpath® strider |

Hange didn't speak, either, but simply began to walk towards where they knew the door to be, paying Quincy no mind as they went now that they were all out of danger.  The House's puppet could do what it wanted.

They opened the door in a single motion and walked into the living room, their steps making a sound even against the carpet due to the total silence of the procession.  Silently, they moved to the couch, dusting it off and moving a few pillows aside to make room for Nico's body.

Then, they turned and walked back into the hallway, pausing for a moment to look back at the father and the boy held in his arms.


Then, they sped away down the hall in the blink of an eye.  Away from Kelsier and Nico.  Away from everyone.

Matt | SSR | ®Hawkpath® |

Matt's confidence shattered in an instant as L turned his attention on him, and he fumbled, scuffing his foot as if he'd just been called on in class.

"I mean, I dunno," he said, glancing again at the body. His mind felt like it was full of molasses - slow, sticky, useless. How was he supposed to know? It was a dead body. There was a knife. A lot of other information hovered at his periphery, but he shoved it aside immediately, sure he was making things up.

"It's a corpse," he said at last, shrugging. "I'm not a detective. I told you."

Matt | Monster room | strider |

Matt, for his part, was feeling a lot of things - foolish, confused, terrified, and most pressingly, not immortal. Maybe brave was somewhere in the mix, but it was hard to sort out with every nerve ending in his body screaming at him to run and/or hide. He hoped Nico had some kind of plan, because he had none whatsoever - just whatever popped into his head moment to moment.

"Okay!!" he yelled back, stumbling back several more steps as the cyclops came at him. "Running! Can do! Definitely can do that if asked!"

L | SSR | <Raintalon>

L watched Matt carefully, his head tilted slightly to one side. He had the benefit of knowing a great deal about Matt, in theory, and having spoken to him a couple times in addition to the others, but..,this Matt was older. And L didn’t think a file could prepare you for a person, anyway.
He stood still, waiting for a long moment, then shook his head. “The House seems to think otherwise,” he noted. “There’s no need to worry about being correct. This may not even be an actual body, and if it is, there’s no way to do a proper investigation in the House anyway. If you’d prefer I cover my ears while you make your analysis, I will.”

Theta didn't think that the black box was related either. In fact, he didn't know what any of these things were and he didn't think they were mirrors either. It didn't make a lot of sense for there to be so many or for there to be a hole in the middle of the shiny disk.
"What's a bee?" he asked, since clearly Orpheus knew what it was. Theta didn't. It sounded like a bunch of odd syllable randomly shoved together. It certainly wasn't his understanding of an animal. He caught a look over Orpheus' shoulder and wrinkled his nose. "It has a person's face. That's not a good look."
None of it was. It all looked horrifying.
"Who would do this to animals?" he wondered, puzzled more than horrified. "Do you think they are drawings of some sort of experiment?"
Theta certainly had no better guess than that. This seemed the best that he could come up with.

L | Chess Room | strider

It was probably the practice L had at analyzing that made him so prone to do it, even when he didn’t technically need to. He did need to here - both because of the House and because of the game - but he caught himself analyzing absolutely everything. He couldn’t seem to actually help it.
Not that he tried. It was his job to analyze, he wasn’t going to object to practice, even on completely irrelevant details...and it was always possible he’d notice something amiss, so was it ever really unnecessary, anyway?
He was certainly tired enough to half wish he could shut his brain off, through. Even just for five minutes or so, not overthinking would be nice...it was too bad he couldn’t just stop worrying by deciding not to worry.
He considered Orpheus’ words instead. It wasn’t an end to his worrying, but it was much better than no distraction from it at all.
“I suppose...it depends on what you mean by reputation,” he mused. “If you mean a sizable one, then no, most likely not if you haven’t met many people. Then again, I doubt I’m well known, either. I’ve blinked in 83 times, including now, but I don’t know many people personally...you, Myrnin, Kid, Hook, Touka, and Czeslaw being the main ones, though not the only ones by far and I haven’t run into the last three in quite some time, so I don’t know if they’re still blinking at all...anyway, the point is that if you mean simply what other people think of you, then yes, you would have a reputation.”
He pulled himself back. He didn’t need to ramble too much, not when he still wasn’t sure Orpheus appreciated it or was just too friendly to say otherwise. He looked at the board instead for a long moment, then back af Orpheus, eyes widening a little.
“Oh, no, I prefer it when people are honest...well, yes, the opinions are sometimes less than kindly stated, but I would still rather be told what they are.”
He did that, too, at the cost of seeming rude oftentimes. He wasn’t against lying - he was excellent at it - but he disliked white lies. Maybe that was why he appreciated Orpheus so much. Orpheus meant what he said, and he was one person L was beginning to think might not lie at all, a feat he wouldn’t have thought anyone capable of.
He looked at the board again, then made his move, putting his bishop at risk in order to set up a way to end the game. Assuming Orpheus fell for it, anyway.

Orpheus tended to be quiet. Unless the conversation was about music, or stories, or things he could connect to his own world, he didn’t say much unless engaged in direct conversation. If there was no music, he didn’t know how to fill the silence with his voice. It was a little bit easier around L – around anyone he was friends with, really – but he still found it a bit easier to listen than it was to fill the silence all by himself. He knew he could hold his own in a conversation, even a conversation with someone like L who was worlds smarter than him, but… this was comfortable. Listening to L, watching the board, piping up when he needed to. He didn’t need to be the center of the discussion. He was more than content to just exist and craft songs and stories in his head, taking some inspiration from the situation he found himself in.
All that to say, not only did he not mind that L was rambling, he actually enjoyed it. It gave him concrete things to respond to, for one, and secondly, he was just genuinely interested in hearing what L was thinking. What his friend had on his mind that he thought was worth sharing. That was, in Orpheus’ opinion, the way you got to know someone. You listened, and you learned their interests, and you helped them better themselves as much as you possibly could.
“I’m impressed you know the exact number,” Orpheus murmured, a tiny smile touching his lips. “And… perhaps even more surprised that you haven’t really met that many people in that time. Although… I don’t know most of the people you’re speaking of, so I believe you’ve met a great deal more than I have. I… well, I tend to not see people more than once. It almost feels like a curse… I like a great many of the people I’ve met…” he blushed, realizing he was the one rambling, now. Perhaps L brought out the urge to speak more than Orpheus had anticipated.
“I agree,” Orpheus added after a moment, tilting his head to take a better look at L. “It’s difficult trying to figure out what people think without them saying it directly. But… for the record… I do enjoy spending time with you. You’re my first friend, and you’ve proven yourself to be not only the most intelligent person I know, but also an incredibly thoughtful and compassionate friend. That, and also incredibly brave. That… is my honest opinion of you.”
Orpheus turned his attention back to the board once he was sure L had heard his words. He saw the bishop at risk, and though he tried to scan for traps, he attacked anyway. He wasn’t good enough to predict L’s plan, at least not yet.

L | Chess Room | strider

L was quiet for a very different reason. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to fill the silence - he had a lot of thoughts about any given thing and could share them if he chose - it was that he didn’t trust people enough, usually. He could learn a lot more and people by listening to them, anyway, something he’d learned a long time ago.
He was fascinated by what Orpheus had to say, anyway. He didn’t want to talk over him, he wanted to know what he had to say, and he wanted him to feel comfortable enough to share if he felt like it. They were friends, after all...wasn’t that what friends did? Make each other feel at ease? What was what Orpheus was doing for him, anyway. Making him feel at peace, even when he was uncomfortable in his disguise and nervous about what came next.
He listened as Orpheus spoke, nodding a little. It made sense, he supposed, that some people would have that problem. Not meeting people more than once was actually more common than meeting the same person several times, in his personal experience, and he had wondered why that was before.
“I, too, feel that I rarely meet the same people twice,” he mused. “Not to the same degree as you, though. I suspect the House may be testing to see who connects with who, and doesn’t tend to blink in the same people together again if he finds them boring...in which case I suppose we’re entertaining to it, aren’t we?”
He didn’t mind that Orpheus was rambling too. It meant he found the conversation interesting, which made L feel like he was doing this right.
He nodded a little. “I can sometimes figure out how people truly feel even if they aren’t forthcoming,” he replied thoughtfully. “It’s easier with criminals. Then it’s less about how someone feels about me and more about their motivations...I’m not good at figuring out how someone feels about me, personally. It’s significantly more complicated.”
He blinked, startled as Orpheus went on, his dark eyes widening a little as he watched him. “Oh…” he said quietly after a moment, processing that. “I...don’t know that I’ve ever been called compassionate, before. Intelligent, yes. Brave...no, not brave.”
He hummed lightly under his breath, considering that a moment longer.
“Well...I consider you to be all of those things, as well. You’re not only incredibly kind and brave and gentle, you’re also highly intelligent and determined. I am...very grateful to be your friend.”
He looked down at the board again. He wasn’t lying, he meant every word he’d said. That was his honest opinion of Orpheus, and one he had a great deal of evidence for. The attack on the bishop wasn’t unexpected, and he moved his piece, effortlessly pinning the king in place. “Checkmate,” he said, looking up to meet Orpheus’ eyes.